


it comes with a price.

by cogito



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: F/M, Gen, Remix, Spoilers, headcanons abound, why did I write this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-29
Updated: 2013-09-20
Packaged: 2017-12-25 00:15:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/946389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cogito/pseuds/cogito
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the war is over and they have won, but something has changed and they can never go back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the future past.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ninian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninian/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Time's End](https://archiveofourown.org/works/868906) by [ninian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninian/pseuds/ninian). 



> inspired by ninian's time's end ! remixed with permission..
> 
> I just put more self gratuitous ficage into it hehehehehhehe. anyway.

_Nobody said it was easy._

_It's such a shame for us to part._

_Nobody said it was easy._

_No one ever said it would be this hard,_

_Oh take me back to the start._

\---  **The Scientist,** Coldplay.

 

 

(1)

She is six or seven or somewhere along those lines when she watches her father depart for his mission. She remembers watching the shepherds through the window and the cracks in the old bricks of castle Ylisse and trying to find her tall; wizened father admist them, and her warm mother by his side. Baby Inigo pokes at her through her sides and chewing on his thumb, words all padded with a speech impediment.

She can’t quite place her finger on who the man to his right is. At least, she thinks it’s a man? The way he carries himself is strange, and she can’t recall a time where she’s seen him (or her) unhooded. The way he (or her) dotes on her is strange, however, and she doesn’t quite understand the way he pats her head.

He is mysterious, but not in a scary way.

 

(2)

Lucina begins to learn swordplay at age eight, when the fencing foil in her hands hurts a little too much and she returns to her room with bruises and wounds all over. On her way back from the courtyard, she notices Father’s light is still on, and the hooded figure leaving his room.

“Ah,” she hears him say, “You must be Lucina, I don’t think we’ve formally met.”

She remembers her manners and curtsies, bowing her legs and knees and exposing her calves.

The princess hisses of pain as she recalls the bruises from earlier, the figure takes one glance at her arms (at least she thinks he’s looking her over, and folds her arms behind her back, shying away), but he only laughs and calls for a healer.

It’s Lissa that answers the call, with Owain hot at her heels.

“I can’t leave him for a second, Robin. Take off your hood inside, would you? It’s rude to leave it on,” she scolds as she tends to Lucina’s bruises, Owain babbling something about heroes and fights as she smiles apologetically at the other.

“Sorry, sorry,” Robin responds, pulling off his dark hood to reveal pristine white hair that makes Lucina think of Winter and snowflakes. Her face lights up as he turns towards him. He’s like a Prince from a fairytale that Mother had stopped telling her years ago.

He turns towards her and smiles, “I’m Robin. Your father’s tactician. It’s very nice to meet you. I’ve been watching you since you were young. ”

She doesn’t know what a ‘tactician’ is, but nods and smiles anyway. She’ll have to ask about why he’s keeping Robin a secret later.

 

(3)

Robin is good with magic and swordsplay in ways she cannot imagine. His strikes are light and messy, but the marks of precision as his blade clashes against Sully’s are nothing to laugh at. He is no match for her, but he stands his ground fiercely.

“Can you teach me?” Lucina asks, very quietly, when they finish, “Magic. I mean.”

Robin only nods and gives her a winking smile, “We can start whenever you are ready, my lady.”

 

(4)

It’s obvious to anyone that a magic tome in Lucina's hands would go up in flames. She and Robin are in the courtyard training when another book goes up in flames. Robin tries to put it out, flailing around frantically until it ends up in the fountain, splashing as it makes dying noises of protest before finally disappearing in a poof of smoke.

Lucina wants to cry, how badly could she screw this up? Cautiously, she glances over at Robin, trying to see if he’s mad that he wasted another one of his best tomes or set his robes on fire or some other mishap that could have been avoided.

The courtyard smells like fire and burnt parchment, but Robin is laughing and Lucina, slowly, starts laughing too.

They both get scolded badly, but Robin sneaks her a little wink while promising Lissa they won’t cause any more damage.

“Good grief,” she huffs, “No wonder why you’re Chrom’s best friend.”

(5)

Father and Robin and the others are leaving for a journey. It’ll be sometime before they come back, she thinks to herself, swingining her legs as she watches them leave through the windows and cracked bricks. This time, a gaggle of children are behind her. Her brother is waving furiously in hopes that his father will see him (Chrom, in fact, does), and everyone is waving to their respective parents, even Gerome.

Lucina searches the crowd for his strange robes and her face lights up when she sees him. She waves too, not for her father or mother, but the snow-haired tactician riding beside her father on their way from the capital.

Robin answers her with a graceful sweep, bowing his head in a natural, low arc before coming up to catch her blue eyes.

Her face heats up as she imagines hearing Robin’s laugh.

 

(6)

She’s lost track of how long it’s taken them to come home. Robin didn’t tell her how long the trip was going to be, but she think thinks thinks that it’ll be today. It’ll definitely be today, someone will come back today. She knows it. Robin’s a genius, right? Father had definitely told her so.

“Come inside, Young Mistress. It will be your bedtime soon.” A servant has followed her out with a blanket in her arms as she attempts to drape it around Lucina’s houlders. The princess nods at her with a small nod of acknowledgement as she returns to watching the gates.

“It’s okay, I’m sure he’ll be home soon.”

She is sure. She knows they’ll be coming back today.

She can feel it.

 

(7)

That night is chaotic, but Lucina does not quite remember when she went to sleep or how she’s managed to wake up when everything has settled. There is red on the horizon, and it is raining outside, pouring, even, but she can’t remember everything in between.

She remembers only Robin returning in the dead of night, slipping into a dark corner of her favourite hide out, while she’s curled up in a chair. There is a crudely wrapped bundle in his hands, and his face is covered.

He smells like burnt meat and blood. The smell is overwhelming, but he must have some sort of explanation. Lucina opens her mouth.

“Shh,” He says, pressing his finger to his lip as he carefully presses the bundle in her arms, “I have to go. I’m sorry.”

She only utters, “Why?”

She sees Robin shake his head, before sweeping out of the room. The bundle is too heavy for her to move with it, and it clatters to the ground, revealing her Falchion underneath.

Her breath hitches.

Father? Without his blade? Where is he now? Her stomach knots. It could mean a lot of things if he didn’t have Falchion with him and only Robin has returned. She runs out intot he rain to find Robin again, because she knows he knows. He _HAS_ to know! He was with Father the entire time, right?

But the night is dark and it is raining, and he is gone.

She is alone while Falchion lies by the crackling fireplace.

 

(8)

Shortly after that night, everyone flees from the capitol. At first, Lonqu and Lissa take her with Owain, but then she’s passed off to Frederick and Sumia, then round again to Cordelia and Gaius and around and around. She doesn’t understand why she’s so important, at least, not yet.

One by one her friends’ parents fall.

She takes up her father’s mantle. After all, someone has to be the Exalt. Her quest for Robin can wait.

She is sixteen.

 

(9)

At the end of one particularly battered conquest, Nah says Naga will open a portal for them to head into the past, to prevent this from ever happening. It’s their last resort, and Lucina knows. She sucks her breath in and agrees. They’ll take anything they can get.

Anything to find out what happened that day, on that battlefield when Robin returned alone.

Lucina says yes.

She takes one look at the future she leaves behind, and crosses the threshold. Her thoughts are of her mother, her father, but forth most, Robin’s fate.

She is nineteen, and the future looks bleak.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> but she is marth, and the hero-king does not cry in front of little girls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANND THIS IS FINALLY HERE it only took me two months to write it next up is the epilogue/ending

 

_I was just guessing at numbers and figures._   
_Pulling your puzzles apart._   
_Questions of science; science and progress,_   
_Do not speak as loud as my heart_

(10)

she runs, as fast as she can. her legs _ache_ and **scream** in pain, but she continues anyway. he's behind her and she needs to **go**!

there's no time to look behind her, to see if the other children are following her with the fell dragon hot at her heels. instead, the only thing she can stare at is the goal in front of her, the gate is the only thing she can focus on right now. she needs to get there in time, before it closes, before the risen behind her have followed through.  

she knows grima is grabbing at her long hair now, maybe even seconds before pulling it back to the future. lucina's tried so hard to get ahead of him, but none of that works, none of their plans have worked, and the only target she has is the blinding light in front of her. this is her-no their- only chance.

she can't let it go to waste, and everything goes white. the exalt squeezes her eyes shut, _no no no no_ , she gasps, grasping for the gate, _lady naga, please don't let this be the end._

 

(11)

red, yellow, heat.

the forest is on fire. 

the smell of burnt wood is everywhere, and lucina comes to, remembering the night robin snuck into the castle, dropping off the precious heirloom before disappearing into the shadows.

 

now's not the time to think about that. 

with one swoop, she slashes apart the risen behind her, but that's not before she hears a scream for help. she doesn't even pause before spinning on her heal as she makes a run towards the one that needs to be rescued in the fallen trees and crackling branches. 

 

 

it's lissa.

lucina wants to cry. this is aunt lissa standing in front of her. aunt lissa, the kind and gentle one that always had to rap sense into them, whether with words or knuckles. the woman who had hidden her away with her cousin owain to protect them until her last moments. lucina feels her tears well up. she almost drops her facade.

but she is marth, and the hero-king does not cry in front of little girls. 

the rescue party comes soon enough, and soon 'marth' is standing before her father and the man that she once loved. it's hard enough to keep still on her legs, and harder still to speak the names that she's already recognized. she inhales sharply through her nose as quietly as she can.

"… my name is marth."

and she is gone, out of sight, sweeping her cape for dramatic effect. once they are gone, away, little specks in the dust, she collapses on to her knees, takes a deep breath, and cries.

 

 

(12)

the road to regna ferox is arduous when she has no one to vouch for her, but her skills prove more than enough when she bests lon'qu in battle. she recalls lissa's future husband with a small smile as she watches him retreat, cursing silently under his breath as her identity (as a girl) is discovered.

his word of honour is good as any, so she focuses on the upcoming battle with chrom instead. didn't her father tell her that at one point, they had to fight to convince regna ferox to join with them as allies? 

she's changed history, if only just a little. it makes her uneasy. can she, can they do what they were here to accomplish?

 

 

(13)

she feels weak at the knees again when her father appears on the other side of the battlefield. robin is once again at his side, directing the few on the battlefield as they mind their distances away from them, like a game of chess. she knows he's the smarter tactician, and her father the stronger swordsman, even if they've yet had the same level of expertise she does against figthing the risen. the risen are the risen, however, and the slow level of movement isn't the same as fighting live targets. 

chrom is strong where she is weak, but she is fast where he is slow. perhaps because of his own fighting style, and the way that he taught her how to handle a sword, they are evenly matched.  

"who taught you how to fight?" yells the prince as their blades spark against each other. she can see the deterination in his eyes. 

 _ **you!** _ lucina nearly screams, but manages to swallow the word, and instead channels all her anger on to this one strike, "my father!"  

yet, after this, they are still deadlocked, unwavering. she watches robin ready a lighting spell, and swallows. 

 

 

(14)

chrom recruits lon'qu in to the shepherds she almost smiles when her aunt makes the first move. that's what she'll tell little lucina in the future when she asks: that it was always aunt lissa who made the first move. 

for a moment, she wishes the could be with them. the time-traveller tears her gaze from their slowly growing band and turns towards the distance.  now is not the time.

they cannot know of her existence. she must meet them some other way. for now, she must find the other children.

 

(15)

tonight is important for her.  she's rehearsed this moment repeatedly, told the other children that should they arrive before her, this is what they should do. she could play out the scene with her eyes closed.

she stops the assassin.

she stops them from defeating- _killing_ \- panne.

she stops the advancing plegian army, and emmeryn is safe.  

 

 _safe._ lucina looks at her aunt, talking to the last taguel and smiling. it's a shame that she had been gone before lucina was ever born. she would have liked another aunt, one warm and helpful and radiant in all the ways like lissa, and all the ways not.

but she does not introduce herself. instead, she focuses on the robin's shouts, and finds seeds of what she does not want growing slowly inside her chest.  she remembers the gallant figure from her childhood, and everything starts to hurt.  she watches as robin nurse the wounds of someone wounded, help carry out those that cannot walk, and she wishes she could stay and help him. 

she has changed the future, and she regrets putting herself in all these places.

is this the end? has she stopped grima from advancing?

but all of these questions escape her mind the moment her father confronts her. 

 

 

(16).

despite her father's affirmations, she moves on with her mission.

 

 

(17). 

lucina recalls the name gangrel with much hate on her father's lips, as if gangrel had done something terrible (aside from his wicked tyranny). she's never asked what this thing constituted, and she's never really known what it is aside from it being Bad with a capital B. it's like a forbidden topic or something. her parents didn't limit her on much, but this was the one thing they were sure of. 

if it was gangrel related, she couldn't say or look for it. plegia was fine, gangrel wasn't. 

now, she understands.

upon the desert sands on pelgia's castle, resting atop the fallen dragon's skull, lucina watches helplessly as the exalt of ylisse tumble to her death.  even mid-fall, she was beautiful. her golden locks floating around her as green robes billowed about. she was an angel. she must have been the one libra preached about.

but emmeryn had no wings, and what it would not be a fall if she did not land. 

she watches her father's handsome features twist and contort in pain. she watches aunt lissa fall to her knees, screaming "no no no no this can't be"s, and can only stare as robin's incredulous face slowly morphs into one of despair. his plans have failed, and now lucina knows, knows, _**K** **NOWS,**_ that all is hopeless. 

the world is doomed to die.  

she couldn't stop it.

 

(18)

she doesn't hear from her father for some time. it's like they've hidden themselves in some sort of shroud, but she supposes that's part of the goal in the first place, why they've bothered trying to hide.

there's a lot to hide from, after all. lucina herself isn't in the best form after watching her aunt die. this was the woman that had placed the entire world on chrom's shoulders, and some part of her feels angry for it, but mostly, she just feels the secondhand pain from one single glance at her father's eyes.

he'll get over it, she knows he will, and then he'll use it as fuel to fight against gangrel, but the problem isn't that and it never has been.  she has a sarcastic smile on her face as she watches her father accept her mother as queen as well as take over the throne of ylisse. 

the future seems to be on the railroad to destruction, hurtling towards it at full speed.

 

(19)

it's not too hard to hunt down where the entourage is once he's exalted.  once again, she's on route to find them immediately. it's thankfully just in time to prevent her father's assassin from killing him, especially since, lucina realizes, the target has shifted.

"father!" she screams "no!"  

and she hates herself for being unable to control herself. she hates that she's tangled herself  back into this web. she hates to have wedged herself into this new life of theirs, and as happy as she is that they're alive, they're not her parents. they're the parents of lucina in this timeline. 

then what of robin? handsome, unmarried robin? 

does he belong to the lucina of this timeline as well? she bites her lip as she watches him take inventory of the weapons in the tent. he turns towards her, touches his chest in surprise of her presence, and smiles at her, nonetheless.

the seeds in her heart sprout into flowers.

 

(20)

sometimes robin talks to her, after the battle. sometimes she stops him on his way to practice. she talks, he listens, says nothing. he doesn't need to say anything, the gaze in his eyes is enough. he's understanding and kind, smart but dense all at the same time. she knows by the jealous gazes of the women in the Shepherds that she's lucky to have spent so much time with him.

she wishes he had realized what sort of position he was in.

later, she decides that it's better if she doesn't. if he knew that, wouldn't he spent less time with her as a result? 

it's silly and childish of her to think so, but she wants robin to pay attention to her.  he is younger than he was in the past, but his gestures are the same, and his snowflake white hair still resembles the winters of regna ferox that she knew well as a child.

thinking about him is enough to make her cry. 

 

(22)

lucina has thoughts of marrying robin as they trek through the desert sands, or later on, on their way to valm to stop the conquerer from swallowing up the continents. after all, hadn't they been allies for sometime now? weren't they the ones who stood side by side during battle after battle, protecting each other with their lives? 

she certainly doesn't want to bring this up with robin, however, since she knows he's busy with other pursuits. he must be planning out the movements of excellus, the next target of walhart or his henchmen. it must be stressful, and lucina doesn't want to make it worse on him.

but it doesn't stop her from worrying about him.

some nights she catches him asleep in front of the candlelight, and the only thing she can do for him is to pull a blanket over his oversized robes and polish off his table. she'll try not to frown the next morning, when he wakes up complaining about aching shoulders and unfinished material.

"but you work so hard already, robin," chrom pats his best friend on the back, saying the words that lucina never had the heart to say, "you deserve a rest."

 

(23)

she remembers the day he shows up with a bouquet of flowers in his hands, holding them out to her and promising her that he'd be with her forever. that they'd trek through it together.

if she had known it was a marriage proposal, she would have said yes anyway. 

lucina realizes that it doesn't matter what direction the future goes in, as long as she's with robin, it'll be okay.

 

(24)

"there's nothing to be worried about," says maribelle as she pulls her corset tight, knocking the wind out of the poor girl. lucina flails her arms, trying to regain balance, trying to breathe, "even lissa had to put up with it at some point. we can't have you showing up in your battlements, can we?" 

"no," lucina squeaks out. she can't breathe.

"it wasn't like i had a choice!" lissa yells, bringing behind her olivia and the train of white silk. olivia's crying, wiping at her eyes repeatedly.

"maybe we should get sumia to do one of her flower fortunes for lucina?" lissa suggests, already throwing the big floofy dress in maribelle's direction.

"really, lissa, you ought to be more careful with the- lissa!"

lissa's already zipped out of the room, leaving those leftover bickering amongst themselves. 

 _good grief,_ thinks lucina, all this for an event that was better off private. but she thinks of what robin would look like all dressed up, and finds her cheeks hotter than the surface of the sun.

"more importantly," olivia finally says, "lets adjust this thing so you can breathe."

 

(25)

there is a grand ceremony in ylisse one day, almost as grand as the marriage of the exalt himself.

robin stands at the altar, ready to take her hand. he looks sharp, and although lucina had always thought of him as attractive, it's the first time she's seen him actually dress in something tailored to his size instead of his traditional shaggy robe. his presence alone is dazzling. 

"shall we?"

she places her hands within his, and he squeezes them tight, enough to indicate that he'll never let go of her.

 

 

it is a lavishly white ceremony, everyone comes dressed to the nines and crying (although of course, severa and brady deny crying with all of their might and no one teases them for it).  the round of congratulations echo down the procession line, and all of is enough to embarass lucina to hell and back. she stammers thank yous, toasts an inordinate amount of people, and is completely and utterly exhausted by the end of it. 

inigo makes some sort of comment directed towards her and robin's happiness. chrom seems angry, but struggles to be good natured about it. olivia is a crying mess, and little lucina look up at the beautiful ceremony and decides that she wants to get married that way too. 

"i want to get married like this one day!" she chirps, grining up at the white haired tactician and her father and mother. 

"i hope it's not to someone like him," chrom mutters, earning him a round of laughter from the crowd that's gathered.  lucina laughs, and excues herself to collapse into an armchair in the back of the room. it's loud, and she's tired, she wants to rest and to be alone in her rooms. 

a moment later, robin comes to her rescue. she watches as he appears behind the staircase, wine glass still in hand. 

"your chariot has arrived." he gives a sweeping bow, and deposits the glass on the floor. two strides forward and he's sweeped lucina off her feet (literally).

"robin!" she yells, tightly wrapping her arms around his neck. he winks, and runs out the door, ignoring the party guests behind him- and one very angry chrom. 

 

 

he places her carefully on the soft king bed, drawing the curtains behind him before joining her. "father doesn't seem very pleased with you," lucina whispers as he works on hurriedly getting the tight dress off her.

"i think chrom can afford to get a little angry sometimes," the tactician responds, shrugging off his dress shirt.

 

 

 


End file.
